The Hold Steady’s latest album, Boys and Girls in America, is possibly their first attempt to be accessible to the mainstream population. Known for their throat-clearing instrumentals and singer Craig Finn’s anarchistic growl, this most recent release is significantly more melodic than previous Hold Steady offerings. Certain tracks – “First Night” for example – actually flirt with the title of ballad, although I’m sure the band’s major players would cringe to read such blasphemy. But one major detail sets the Hold Steady apart from the Pop 100: the simple matter of I.Q.

Finn’s lyrics are famous for creating biographies of drunks and druggies – often from his hometown of Minneapolis – and while such themes might seem universal, they always fly just over the heads of the masses. Finn’s preference for developing specific characters and following their antics prevents listeners from projecting personal images over each song, and the lack of identification can be a significant turnoff. After all, our favorite television characters are one dimensional, and why should we change our minds when it comes to our music? An unnamed “every girl” looking for love in all the wrong places is much more likely to strike a chord with target consumers between the ages of 12 and 28 than any identified individual. And who doesn’t want to slum it for a night by hearing about drug-induced party antics? Listening to someone sing about being drunk comes hangover free and is just as essential at a party as the booze itself.

Throughout Boys and Girls in America, the characters are still present, but this time, they’re just general enough that you could possibly substitute your own face across each one’s mental image.

Nevertheless, the Hold Steady has managed to simplify song characters without sacrificing the art of story telling. In the opening track, “Stuck Between Stations,” allusions to John Berryman tell an entire secondary tale. Born in Oklahoma in 1914, Berryman is best known as a Pulitzer Prize winning poet-drifter, mingling among Ivy Leaguers. The references to Berryman seem more aimed at the crowd that worshipped Frank O’Hara and Diane di Prima than those who bow down to the Stones. Still, the parallels between Berryman and our songwriter become obvious upon closer inspection. Berryman’s poems target the dispossessed – to borrow the title of his second poetry collection – much like the average Hold Steady song. His works often feature alter egos like Henry and Mr. Bones, whose roles may not be so drastically different from those of Finn’s favorites Holly and Charlemagne. Berryman, known for his alcoholism, killed himself after a life blotched with bouts of depression and social panic. He threw himself of a bridge in 1972 in, of course, Minneapolis.

Sprinkled between the lofty literary references and the scrutiny of classic religious symbols, though, are the kinds of truisms that make the listener feel like part of the song. At the end of that same first track, Finn candidly tells us, “we drink / we dry up / we crumble into dust.” Suddenly, we are part of the song. Perhaps that is what we wanted all along.

There are certain tracks that make me long for the detail of Separation Sundayand that masterpiece, Almost Killed Me. Part of me was hoping for the wry fury embedded in “Barfruit Blues,” and while it rears it’s head once in a while on Boys and Girls in America, its appearance is rarer. Still, despite the occasional misstep, this is a wholly satisfying album. “Same Kooks” sounds like classic Hold Steady with the frantic organ backing sepia-toned lyrics and a truly unusual guitar solo for Tad Kubler. Kubler’s work through the entire album is significantly more mature than anything he’s recorded to date, and he’s moved on from strumming chords to sharing lyrical, acoustically conceived melodies with pianist/organ player Franz Nicolay. The final track, “Southtown Girls,” involves some well-executed vocal harmonies that bring southwestern barbershop into Brooklyn art rock. Even the weakest track on the record, “Chillout Tent,” features a worthwhile cameo by Dave Pirner (of Soul Asylum), if you can tolerate the quavering tremolo provided by Elizabeth Elmore (formerly of Sarge). She sounds like an alto choir girl reaching desperately to hit the soprano notes, but in this case you can’t even blame it on range.

With just that one notable flaw, Boys and Girls in America is an album that can easily stand up to its formidable predecessors. The Hold Steady has moved on to experiment with new musical techniques without abandoning individuality. Don’t grab this album expecting to hear an elongated version of Separation Sunday, but keep in mind: we like it when our band’s change. It’s when all those records are interchangeable that it’s time to worry.